The Highwayman
by Niixx
Summary: Ikuto and Amu fall in love but Easter is chasing him, so he has to leave. He promises to come back for her. But when Tadase hears of their plans, his jealousy forces him to go straight to Easter. Based on the poem "The Highwayman" by Alfred Noyes. Oneshot


**Disclaimer:** I do not own Shugo Chara! or The Highwayman.

**Full Summary:** Ikuto and Amu fall in love, but Easter is chasing him, so he has to leave. He promises to come back for her. But when Tadase hears of their plans, his jealousy forces him to go straight to Easter. Based on the poem "The Highwayman" by Alfred Noyes.

**IMPORTANT!  
**If you are a Tadase fan, I suggest you turn right around. He's the bad guy and comes off really nasty here.

---------------

**The Highwayman**

---------------

_The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees,  
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,  
The road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,  
And the highwayman came riding—  
Riding—riding—  
The highwayman came riding up to the old inn-door._

Amu Hinamori stood on her balcony, taking in the deliciousness of the crisp spring air that surrounded her. The stars and moon shone brightly, making her candles useless fixtures that stood unlighted near her hand. There was a slight breeze, making her pink hair sway into the line of her amber gaze. The night was peaceful; the town below was sleeping and quiet, so very, very quiet.

She sighed softly. Her father sat with a man she barely knew—Tadase Hotori—in their dining room, discussing a marriage that he hoped would take place between Mr. Hotori and herself.

She'd known Mr. Hotori would begin calling on her after that day in town. But she had hoped he would court her instead of claiming love at first sight and asking for her hand immediately. Despite what she had been raised to believe was the way it was meant to be, she did not find a marriage decided by her father in her best interests. She wanted someone who would love her without her position in society or her looks. Both would someday fade and then she would be left with an empty heart and a disloyal husband, as so many other women had.

And, contrary to what "women were supposed to hope for", she did not believe in the idea of love at first sight. How could one have love without working at it? Her mother had told her the story of her own marriage; she hadn't even liked Tsumugu Hinamori when she had married him. In fact, until several months after their marriage, she hadn't spoken to him except in situations where she was forced to. But they'd fallen in love, surely enough. With a lot of work, Midori had fallen for Tsumugu.

But Amu did not want that for herself.

_I do not wish to marry him_, she wanted to say to her father. _He is not the man for me._ Then her father would ask who was, who she wanted. He would allow her anything if she just told him what she wanted. _I have not met him yet, but I shall find him. Until then, I will not love another._

The sound of racing horses caught her attention, pulling her out of her mind's reservoir, her head swiveling to her left to see several of Easter's best horsemen racing down the street behind her home. _What could they possibly be doing at so late an hour? They will wake the entire town at this rate!_

Easter was a self-appointed police-like agency that, instead of throwing criminals in jail, forced them to work for their agency, to "atone for their sins". But it had quickly become overcome with the corrupt and now decided between who could live and who could die. They'd become power-hungry while saying that they were doing God's work.

As the men neared, Amu couldn't believe how stupid they were. Chasing a criminal so loudly would only help said criminal to hide.

Suddenly, a hand covered her mouth while an arm wrapped around her waist, dragging her back into the shadows of her private quarters against a hard chest. Her breathing became swift and harsh. _What does this man plan on doing?_ Her eyes began to tear. There was no doubt in her mind that his plans were dishonorable and would leave her in ruin.

She quickly got herself under control. The moment his hand left her mouth, she would scream, alerting her father and Mr. Hotori to her predicament. _I will fight,_ she warned the man in her mind. _Mark my words, I will fight to the very death._

Warm breath touched her ear as a husky voice whispered, "I apologize for such a rude gesture, but after they pass, I will take my leave. There is no reason for you to be so frightened." His hold loosened on her slightly. "Just stay silent and I will not hurt you."

Relaxing against his hold, she nodded her head slowly. When his hand began loosening over her mouth, she wondered how such an idiotic criminal had not been caught. _Does he believe I will not scream?_

But instead of letting her go, he spun her around, facing her to him.

_He'd a French cocked-hat on his forehead, a bunch of lace at his chin,  
A coat of the claret velvet, and breeches of brown doe-skin;  
They fitted with never a wrinkle: his boots were up to the thigh!  
And he rode with a jeweled twinkle,  
His pistol butts a-twinkle,  
His rapier hilt a-twinkle, under the jeweled sky._

Amu was awestruck by the handsome man standing before her. His hair was unkempt and blue—hair as unusual as her own long, pink tresses—hanging in his face. Blue eyes were alight with mischief and untold secrets, staring down at her as if they could read her very thoughts. His face and hair gave him the looks of a rogue, but his clothes were different.

They were that of money. Had he simply stolen them or had Easter finally gotten too power-hungry to care that he was a man of wealth and, therefore, power? If they executed such a man, they would be tried for murder; he was a someone, if his clothing was anything to go by. But who was he?

She saw the sword hanging at his side. The hilt gleamed from the moonlight slowly drifting farther into her room, the silver bright against his deep purple and blue clothes. She couldn't help but stare at him as he leaned in closer to her.

He seemed as shocked as she. His eyes widened as he took her in, no doubt unaccustomed to the unbelievable hue of her hair as so many others were. Neither of them breathed as they stared at each other for several long moments before the sound of footsteps could be heard approaching her quarters. They pulled away from each other quickly, taken aback by the sight of each other.

The first to catch himself, the man moved to the balcony, a smirk on his face. "We will continue this another time, perhaps." With that, he gracefully flung himself back onto the street, moving into the shadows immediately.

When Amu crossed to the side of the balcony, leaning as far over as gravity would allow, she could no longer see him. She searched everywhere within her sight, but found him nowhere. Sighing, she moved back into her room, putting a hand over her restlessly beating heart. _Why is my heart beating so quickly? He's gone and I am safe._

But something inside her wanted to see him again. And that same thing told her that she would. _Perhaps love at first sight is not a myth after all._

_Over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the dark inn-yard,  
And he tapped with his whip on the shutters, but all was locked and barred;  
He whistled a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there  
But the landlord's black-eyed daughter,  
Bess, the landlord's daughter,  
Plaiting a dark red love-knot in her long black hair._

For the next weeks, Amu paid careful attention to the land surrounding her home, searching for any sign that the man would return to her as he had implied. Could it be that she truly _had_ fallen in love with him? Every time she heard that Easter had killed yet another innocent, her heart clenched and she felt as if she would topple over. But when the deceased was described, she would breathe a sigh of relief, smiling a small smile to herself. He would come back, she knew, and she would wait for their next meeting.

After several months, Amu found her certainty waning and she allowed Mr. Hotori to court her as he wished, though she always seem distant and not-quite-there. Her answers to his questions were short, often one-worded.

But one night, as she lay in her bed staring out at the balcony he had disappeared from so long before, a dark shadow came to rest on the side. She shot up in bed, breathing heavily, before flying towards him. The doors were closed, locked; her father's rules. No unwanted visitors would enter.

But she wanted him so very much.

He knocked on the glass lightly, rapping his knuckles against it. "May I come in, little strawberry?" The richness of his voice made her blush and she nodded rapidly, making her embarrassed. She had been taught to never act as if she had been waiting for a man; he was supposed to have been waiting for her! "Then would you please unlock the door?"

She blushed harder. "O-of course," she whispered, turning the lock, quickly taking a step back as the door swung open.

As he entered, he seemed bigger than before, frightening her all the more. "Shh, I will do nothing that might startle you." He closed the door most of the way, closing the shades to shroud them in almost full darkness. "I have caught myself thinking of you quite a bit, little strawberry, but I still don't know your name," he said abruptly. Leaning down to her, he asked quietly, "May I know your name?"

Nearly swallowing her tongue, she breathed, "Amu. Amu Hinamori." She backed a little ways away from him, frightened by how big he was, how close. "Wh-what is yours, sir?"

"Beautiful name, little Amu." He stood proudly, smirking slightly at her. He placed a hand on his chest, following her retreat. "I am Ikuto Tsukiyomi. And now that the formalities are over, I would like to know, Amu, if you have thought about me as much as I have you."

Her breathing became ragged, but she answered honestly. "I do not know how often you thought of me, but, yes, I've thought of you regularly." Her eyes widened as his hand stretched towards her face to cup her cheek. "Wh-what are you doing, Mr. Tsukiyomi?" A little of the alarm she felt trickled into her voice, though he continued reaching for her.

"Ikuto, please. And I was planning on touching your face to see if it is as soft as it looks."

Becoming rigid, she couldn't stop the words from leaving her. "Y-you may."

The feeling of his warm hand on her cheek shocked her a little; the only other man to have ever done so was her father when she was much younger, but only to soothe her. This seemed intensely different from those times, however.

"You are very beautiful, Amu," he said, moving closer to her. "I wonder what your husband would think if he knew you were in the dark with another man." His voice was almost mocking, though it held a questioning quality. "If he knew another man was touching you." His hand slid towards the back of her neck as his face inched closer.

"I am not married, Ikuto," she replied in an attempt to be unapproachable, unable to believe the huskiness in her own voice. Why was her heart racing so? It felt as if it would burst free from her chest any moment.

It couldn't be because of her close proximity with this man. She had been close to Mr. Hotori, as well, and her heart had never beaten so erratically. Could it be that it was the center of her fantasies, finally real, finally tangible beneath her fingertips?

Reaching out, her fingers brushed his shirt, catching the material between them. Her movements felt as if they were someone else's; how could she be moving closer, pressing herself closer to this virtual stranger like some kind of harlot woman? How could she not be screaming for her father, for a guard, when said stranger leaned closer still until finally their lips touched, softly at first before he applied more pressure?

After a moment, Ikuto pulled back, resting his forehead to hers, smiling slightly. "Perhaps I wasn't as right about love at first sight as I had imagined," he mused quietly, mirroring her thoughts. His hand returned to her cheek, thumb wiping just below her eye. "Would you believe me if I said I was in love with you? That I think of you constantly, even when it is in my best interests not to?" He gave her no time to respond. "I will have to leave once again, little strawberry, but I would like to know if you will be waiting for me, if you will do that for me."

She nodded slowly. "Yes, I will. I will wait for you, if you ever leave."

_And dark in the dark old inn-yard a stable-wicket creaked  
Where Tim the Osler listened; his face white and peaked;  
His eyes were hollows of madness, his hair like mouldy hay,  
But he loved the landlord's daughter,  
The landlord's red-lipped daughter,  
Dumb as a dog he listened, and he heard the robber say—_

Below Amu's balcony, full of love and anger, stood Tadase Hotori, seething when he heard the other man's voice coming from the woman's room just above. The sound drifted on the wind, nearly too quiet to be heard. But he heard it, betrayal attacking his heart.

So Amu had gone to another man, allowed another man what he had not been given? _He_ was the one she would marry; everything she was belonged to him!

It no longer mattered, however; he loved her to overlook this small trespass, but he would not let this go without punishment. The man would pay for what he had done, for thinking for a moment that he could take what was rightfully Tadase's….

"_One kiss, my bonny sweetheart, I'm after a prize to-night,  
But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light;  
Yet, if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day,  
Then look for me by moonlight,  
Watch for me by moonlight  
I'll come to thee my moonlight, though hell should bar the way."_

Leaning in, Ikuto kissed Amu one more time, smiling to himself. "Then I will have to leave you tonight, my love. It would not be safe for me to stay here the night; there are many after me. But, should it be safe for me to do so, I will come back to you before morning's light. If it is not, watch for me; I shall come for you in the moonlight, even if I must fight all of Easter myself."

She nodded, letting him pull away. "Then I will wait here for you. But do you promise we will leave here tomorrow night? I do not want to be here without you another day."

He smiled to her, staring into her eyes. "I promise. Tomorrow, we will be far from this place." He turned, walking towards the balcony slowly, as if he didn't want to leave. He stood rigidly for a moment before saying in a tight voice, "If Easter should come and ask you about me, you will tell them that you know nothing of me. I will not allow you to be hurt because of your connection to me." With that, he went to the balcony, jumping from it once more.

_He rose upright in the stirrups; he scarce could reach her hand,  
But she loosened her hair in the casement! His face burnt like a brand  
As the black cascade of perfume came tumbling over his breast;  
And he kissed its waves in the moonlight,  
(Oh, sweet, black waves in the moonlight!)  
Then he tugged at his rein in the moonlight, and galloped away to the West._

She ran after him, nearly throwing herself over the edge of her balcony to watch as he disappeared into the shadows, tipping his hat to her before he was gone. Standing there for a moment, happiness welled in her heart; she would be with him in only a day's time.

Moving back into her room, she closed the door, but could not lock it, just in case he were to reappear. She kept the curtains slightly ajar, so she would see his face first thing in the morning.

Meanwhile, Tadase stood in the opposite shadows of the ones the Ikuto had disappeared into. He had heard the whole thing. _So, he thinks to run off with my bride tomorrow night? We shall see about that._ Leaving, he planned to find Easter's leader, determined to be rid of the pest immediately, never knowing what the consequences of such actions would be.

_He did not come in dawning; he did not come at noon;  
And out o' the tawny sunset, before the rise o' the moon,  
When the road was a gypsy's ribbon, looping the purple moor,  
A red-coat troop came marching—  
Marching—marching—  
King George's men came marching up to the odd inn-door._

The next day went by slowly, the minutes ticking by seeming more like hours to the hopeful girl. Her parents noticed her sudden quiet nature, but thought nothing of it; perhaps she had finally said yes to Mr. Hotori.

She watched out the window for him throughout the day, disappointing herself further and further. _Do not worry so,_ she scolded herself. _He promised he would be back before tomorrow morning, if there was trouble. I am not to worry._

Early in the evening, Amu heard it—the sound of Easter approaching. Had they found him? Were they chasing him throughout the town? What would she do if he should die by the hands of those foul beings? Fear making her jumpy, she flew to the door when she heard a sharp knock, only to be pushed back by her father. "You will go to your quarters, Amu. We do not know why Easter is here."

She nodded, obeying. Her heart sped as she realized it _was_ Easter that stood at her door, not her love. She wanted nothing to do with them; they were the scum that kept Ikuto away.

"_If Easter should come and ask you about me, you will tell them that you know nothing of me. I will not allow you to be hurt because of your connection to me."_

His words rang in her head, shocking her into desperation. What if they knew of him coming to her home? Would they use her as a bargaining tool to get him to hand himself over? She would never allow it!

_They said no word to the landlord, they drank his ale instead,  
But they gagged his daughter and bound her to the foot of her narrow bed;  
Two of them knelt at her casement, with muskets at their side!  
There was death at every window;  
And hell at one dark window;  
For Bess could see, through her casement, the road that _he_ would ride._

Amu could hear her father from below, his voice proud and stiff. "What do you need from me, sirs?"

They gave no reply, but she knew from the sounds drifting to her room that her mother was fetching them something to drink. Oh, Lord, what was happening? She would die before she allowed them to hurt her family or Ikuto. But who could know that she even knew him? Surely no one had ever seen or heard him in her room….

"You cannot go up there! Those are our daughter's quarters!"

Her body stiffened at her father's booming shout, followed by a yelp and thud. Had they…they couldn't have hurt him, an innocent, could they?

Suddenly, two big men were before her, grinning as they held their muskets at their sides. They moved closer to her, making her take an instinctive step back. What were they planning with those gleams in their eyes? What were they planning to do to her?

"Pretty lass," one mused, moving so quickly to her that she slammed up to the wall of her room hastily. "An' such a wee girl. Wonder if 'er father knows who she been cohortin' with."

The other man laughed. "Aw, little lass's scared o' us. Should be; she's the bait t'night."

They grabbed her, ignoring her yelp of pain as they tied her hands tightly behind her and yanked her from her room.

_They had tied her up to attention, with many a sniggering jest;  
They had bound a musket beside her, with the barrel beneath her breast!  
"Now, keep good watch!" and they kissed her.  
She heard the dead man say--  
_Look for me by moonlight;  
Watch for me by moonlight;  
I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way!

Outside her home, they tied a long rope around her waist, attaching it to a tree to keep her standing at attention. They joked about what they should do to her when they caught Ikuto and touched her, making her shiver in disgust, though they seemed to believe it was desire. They had a musket position beneath her chest, aimed at her heart. From a distance, it would look as if she were holding it to her, ready to shoot the man riding down the street.

"Now, keep good watch! We're countin' on ye, lass," one man said before kissing her. She clenched her mouth closed, making them laugh.

But all she could hear as the moon rose in the sky was Ikuto's smooth voice.

"_But, should it be safe for me to do so, I will come back to you before morning's light. If it is not, watch for me; I shall come for you in the moonlight, even if I must fight all of Easter myself."_

Could he truly be coming? She hoped that he would not be able to come in the moonlight; they would surely see him and kill him. _I must find a way to tell him Easter is waiting. But how…._ She made a quick decision, tears biting the back of her eyes and throat.

_She twisted her hands behind her; but all the knots held good!_

_She writhed her hands till her fingers were wet with sweat or blood!  
They stretched and strained in the darkness, and the hours crawled by like years,  
Till, now, on the stroke of midnight,  
Cold on the stroke of midnight,  
The tip of one finger touched it! The trigger at least was hers!_

Twisting her hands painfully behind her, she found that it was no use trying to undo the knots; they held tight, biting into the delicate skin of her wrists. She could feel her blood running down the rest of her hands, falling to the ground without a sound. None of the men paid much attention to her anymore; they simply sat on the ground, playing cards.

It took her hours to work her hands enough to touch the trigger of the musket. It was cold beneath her finger, but if she pushed hard enough, it would fire. _At least I have the trigger; if I must, I will be able to give him fair warning._

She stood, clenching her eyes shut to remember every moment she'd shared with him. _Oh, love, live on for me. Should you find me dead, live on for me._

_The tip of one finger touched it; she strove no more for the rest!_

_Up, she stood up to attention, with the barrel beneath her breast,  
She would not risk their hearing; she would not strive again;  
For the road lay bare in the moonlight;  
Blank and bare in the moonlight  
And the blood of her veins in the moonlight throbbed to her love's refrain._

Keeping her finger firmly in place, she didn't try to grab it. No, she couldn't risk the barbarians' notice. So, she continued standing there with the gun at her breast. Until he came riding down the road, she would not move or make any noise.

Her heart beat wildly as she stared up at the moon. _Do not come for me in moonlight, my love. Turn away before it is too late._

Tlot-tlot; tlot-tlot!_ Had they heard it? The horse hoofs ringing clear;  
_Tlot-tlot, tlot-tlot _in the distance? Were they deaf that they did not hear?  
Down the ribbon of moonlight, over the brow of the hill,  
The highwayman came riding,  
Riding, riding!  
The red-coats looked to their priming! She stood up, straight and still!_

Then she heard it.

Horse hoofs dropping onto the cobblestone echoed in the distance, moving directly towards them. When none of the men moved, she wondered if they could hear it or if she was merely wishing for it. But soon they all stood, moving to their muskets and closer to her home to hide in the shadows.

They could see, just as clearly as she, the man riding towards them. He was dressed extravagantly and, though she could not make out his face, his blue hair gave him away.

It was her love, come to take her away. Her back stiffened as her finger pressed against the trigger.

Tlot-tlot_,__ in the frosty silence! _Tlot-tlot_,__ in the echoing night!  
Nearer he came and nearer! Her face was like a light!  
Her eyes grew wide for a moment; she drew one last deep breath,  
Then her finger moved in the moonlight,  
Her musket shattered the moonlight,  
Shattered her breast in the moonlight and warned him—with her death._

The cold air rang with the sound of his horse's hooves. Everything around her seemed to still, as if waiting for her to do as she had planned to. As he came closer, she knew her pale face would shine like a beacon in the darkness, guiding him to his death. She would warn him.

For a moment, she let herself picture what life would have been like with him. Then, drawing in one last breath, she whispered, "I love you, Ikuto Tsukiyomi," and closed her eyes. Her finger tightened on the trigger and the sound of the musket shattered the peace of the night.

She hung limp as the men from Easter stared at her in disbelief, though they knew what she had done; she'd warned him with her death, even though he might not know who she was.

_He turned; he spurred to the West; he did not know who stood  
Bowed, with her head o'er the musket, drenched with her own red blood!  
Not till the dawn he heard it, his face grew grey to hear  
How Bess, the landlord's daughter,  
The landlord's black-eyed daughter,  
Had watched for her love in the moonlight, and died in the darkness there._

Ikuto's horse bucked beneath him violently at the sound that rent the air, and turned back in the direction they'd come. His short glance at the person standing in the middle of the street only showed some bowed over a musket, dripping with blood, no doubt a new victim of Easter.

He raced to the next town, finding a room at the local inn to rest the next morning. He immediately went to the pub attached, asking for a drink. He would have to return for Amu tonight; he wouldn't have her worrying.

As he sipped his brandy, he listened idly to the chatter surrounding him. More news of Easter sprouted just before a man slammed into the pub, furious to say the least.

He seemed slightly familiar, though Ikuto could not remember when or where he'd met the man. Something about those amber eyes reminded him of Amu.

"Easter has gone too far!" the man boomed, his voice shaking the room. Once all's attentions were on him, he shouted, "They've killed my innocent daughter, in the middle of the street like some criminal! They shot my daughter down in the street like a rabid dog!" The man promptly burst into raging tears before continuing. "I want them killed! I will give a reward to anyone who brings me the head of _any_ Easter member; I will have my Amu avenged!"

_Amu_, Ikuto thought, blanching. He slammed out of his chair, racing past the man and out the door. _The woman I saw last night was…was Amu. She's dead. And it's all because of _me_!_

_Back, he spurred like a madman, shrieking a curse to the sky,  
With the white road smoking behind him and his rapier brandished high!  
Blood-red were his spurs i' the golden noon; wine-red was his velvet coat,  
When they shot him down on the highway,  
Down like a dog on the highway,  
And he lay in his blood on the highway, with the bunch of lace at his throat._

He jumped on his horse, flying down the cobblestone road to where Amu's blood stained the ground. _I will kill them for what they've done! Amu's death will not be forgiven!_

"Damn you all!" he shouted as he made it into town, the dirt from the streets creating a cloud behind him. He took his sword from its sheath and held it high, cutting down the first few Easter members he found. But he could not take them all, he knew; yet he would take as many with him to the grave as he could.

He felt a piercing pain in his chest before he fell from his horse, shot down like an animal in the street. His coat was drenched in blood already as his vision was shrouded in black. He heard people moving towards him, but could no longer feel where he'd been shot. His eyes drifted closed and he whispered, "I'm coming, Amu."

_And still of a winter's night, they say, when the wind is in the trees,  
When the moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,  
When the road is a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,  
A highwayman comes riding—  
Riding—riding—  
A highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn-door._

The deaths of both Amu Hinamori and Ikuto Tsukiyomi set into motion the destruction of Easter as citizens fought their strangle hold on the coutryside. Soon, no one dared breathe a word of the self-proclaimed "heroes" that were becoming quite rare to find.

But that didn't stop the story surrounding the two deaths. They had to be related, didn't they? Ikuto had heard of Amu's death and ridden like a madman into town, though it was practically suicide. The story of the Romeo and Juliet lovers spread throughout the country, bringing new people from all around to see where the two had died.

The story continues to be told that Ikuto and Amu meet on chilly, moonlit nights to tell each other of their love and ride on to the other world together. They have never been apart since their deaths, it is assumed, for why would one die for another, if not to be reunited with them soon?

_And still of a winter's night, they say, when the wind is in the trees,  
When the moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,  
When the road is a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,  
A highwayman comes riding—  
Riding—riding—  
A highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn-door._

They swear they can hear the two's passions on those fateful night, their laughter and giggles of love and eternity. Never was there a night the two would not meet to share the delights of the afterlife together.

"_I love you, Ikuto,"_ guests of the Amu Hinamori hotel still hear.

"_I'll come to you by moonlight, Amu,"_ the streets echo.

_Over the cobbles he clatters and clangs in the dark inn-yard;  
He taps with his whip on the shutters, but all is locked and barred;  
He whistles a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there  
But the landlord's black-eyed daughter,  
Bess, the landlord's daughter,  
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair._

"I have seen them together!" some announce. Every story is the same.

"He comes riding down the street atop his horse, jumping to her balcony before beckoning for her to open her door. She brings him inside and laughter is heard. But this laughter is that of love and peace. Amu and Ikuto are at peace within her room."

---------------

"Amu, would you wake up, already?" Ikuto demanded, shaking the girl snuggled into his side from her dreams. "My arm's been asleep for half-an-hour!" he complained, though it was mostly for show. He loved when she simply laid beside him, allowed him to feel her warmth against him.

She blinked her large amber eyes up at him. "Hmm? Oh!" she breathed, blushing. "It was just a dream," she murmured, almost disappointed.

"What was only a dream?"

She looked to the TV, where a man in nineteenth century clothing held a woman with long black hair in a tight embrace, kissing her passionately. "What is this?" she asked, ignoring his question completely. _What in the world was my dream?_

"Oh, it's some old movie based on some Alfred guy's poem 'The Highwayman'. It was actually kinda good; you missed it, though, since you were so sleepy," he teased, poking her side playfully.

_You would think so, wouldn't you?_ she thought, cuddling closer to him. _But you would look damn good on a horse, love._


End file.
